


I Promise

by orphan_account



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Hospital, Angst, Brain Cancer, Cancer, Falling In Love, Leukemia, Love, M/M, Muscle Disorder, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sad, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, awkward first meetings, chemo - Freeform, cystic fibrosis, depressed dan, sick
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-23 09:05:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15602985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Connor has never been a healthy kid, so he's been in and out of the hospital all his life.Both Troye and Tyler have only been there for a couple of months after they were diagnosed.Phil only had to stay at the hospital after he got worse.Dan thought everything would end after that night, but oh how wrong he was.





	1. New Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> Don't you love it when I post a new book instead of finishing the ones I'm already ankle deep in writing? I need to stop doing this to myself...
> 
> Stay sissy and bitchy everyone!

Dan felt himself being lifted off of the cold ground, warm hands grasped his waist and shoulders before he was placed onto something soft, yet hard at the same time. Lights moved around him, though he forced his eyes to stay glued shut.

“Dan?” an unfamiliar voice asked. “Can you open your eyes for me buddy?”

The young teenager whimpered. He could feel people touching the marks on his wrists, pressing cloth over them for a moment before they began to sting. He whimpered again, just barely opening his eyes enough to see that he was no longer inside his house. His entire body felt warm and fuzzy as if he was wrapped up in a blanket while being kissed all over by a lover. He could see two people moving around in the back of- wherever he was. 

“Hey there, Dan,” the same person said, looking into his eyes with a pleasant smile. They turned around and grabbed something before a blinding white light poured into his eyes. The teenager cried out in pain as another stinging sensation rushed through his rest. It felt like he was being stabbed over and over again while someone pulled a string through his skin. “Numb the area captain doofus,” the person chided. Dan felt another prick before both of his hands went completely numb.

“Hey, can you tell us what your full name is?” the person asked, checking his pulse.

“Daniel James Howell,” the young teenager grumbled, his eyes growing heavier and heavier by the moment.

“Don’t you dare,” the person muttered. “Stay with us, Dan.”

“Who are you?” he asked, trying to sit up. His stomach rolled with the motion, causing bile and chunks of something-or-other to rise in the back for his throat. He convulsed forward, allowing the mixture to spill from his lips and down the front of his shirt. 

“Oh lordy,” the other person said, grabbing something off of the floor and placing it underneath his chin to catch most of the vomit. “Did you take something?” 

“Yeah,” Dan said through retches. 

“We’ll handle that when we get to the hospital,” the other person said, who Dan had finally deduced was a paramedic. The first paramedic that stood on the right side of him grabbed a bag, breaking the two pockets to form one large mixture of clear fluid. Dan felt another prick in his arm as she inserted the IV drip. His vision began to clear only to become even more hazy, causing him to fall unconscious once again. 

* * *

 

Phil stretched down again, hating how the eyes of the female instructor that he was given bore into his back as he tried to reach his toes. “You’re doing well, Mr. Lester,” she said, her accent heavy in her voice. “At this rate, you’ll be able to touch your toes in a month or two.” 

“It hurts,” he groaned, pulling up five seconds too early. Tears of frustration and pain raised in his eyes. “I could barely get out of bed this morning on my own. If anything, I’m getting worse!”

“If you keep doing the exercises, then everything will get better,” she insisted. 

“You can do it, Phil!” Connor croaked from the sidelines, his feet tucked up under him as his hand ran up and down the pole that held his oxygen and IV drip. The older teenager gave him a weak smile before he turned back to his instructor. She pressed her hand to the small of his back, telling him to bend over backward as far as he could go. 

He leaned back as he had been told to, though he stopped after six inches, relying heavily on the Physical Therapists hand and arm. “Good, good,” the praised, counting just under her breath before he helped him stand back up. “And it’s noon, which means our session is over. I suggest you and Mr. Franta go and get some food.”

The teenager nodded as he walked over to his friend, bidding the older woman a goodbye. “Do you think Troye would be out of his session?” 

Connor unfolded himself from the chair, standing up with the help of Phil’s hand. “Probably,” he croaked. “You’re both getting so much better.”

“So are you!” Phil beamed, slowly pressing a hand on his friend's shoulder. “I mean, you took your oxygen off for two hours yesterday! That’s the longest time in about two months. We’re all making progress.”

They had made it down most of the hall when they saw the ambulance speed by through one of the large windows. “Do you think that’s a gun wound or another heart attack victim?” Connor asked.

“With the rate, it’s rushing I say that it’s a trauma victim,” Phil said, turning and watching the ambulance rush down to the ER.

“There’s Troye’s room,” Connor said, pointing to the end of the hall. The door was slightly ajar, meaning that someone was in, whether it was their friend or not. “It looks like he’s home.” 

When they reached the door, Phil slowly raising his arm and knocked. “Hey Troye, are you up to go and get some food?” The aforementioned boy lay unmoving on the bed, one of his hands lay flat across his stomach while the other held his phone.

“Is Tyler coming?” he asked weakly, the beanie on his head slipping down his forehead as he turned to look at the other two.

“We could go and get him,” Phil said, slowly putting his arm back down by his side. “I don’t know how he’s feeling today. I was at my session from ten when I woke up to now.”

“He almost never comes out of his room anymore,” Troye frowned, lifting himself off of his bed and walking over to the door slowly and carefully. “I wouldn’t either. I know I didn’t when I was in that stage.”

“I barely came out of my room till you two showed up,” Connor mused. “We really rely heavily on each other, don’t we?”

“Yeah, I guess we do,” Phil said, moving aside so that the other two boys could get through. They walked down the hall, just talking to each other like they always did before they made it to the fourth member of their parties room. “Hey Tyler, do you want to come to lunch with us?”

“Yeah, I’ll be right out!” the oldest teen yelled. A couple seconds of semi-awkward silence passed before his door swung open, revealing the shortest member of the group. He had his red beanie that Troye had given him when he arrived pressed firmly over his head, covering the lack of hair. “Okay, are we gonna go?”

“Yeah,” Connor said with a small smile, “I’m starving.”

“Then let’s go!” Troye grumbled, motioning towards the cafeteria-like room. The group made their way down the hall again, joking and laughing now that they had the most human member with them. Their lunch passed like it did every day, with both Troye and Tyler picking at their food due to the chemo making them lose their appetite. Connor wolfed down as much food as he could stomach, knowing that most of it would not actually find its way into his system.

As they walked back, the conversation was cut short by Tyler, “Hey, it looks like the moved someone into Jack’s old room. We should go say hi.”

“Not everyone likes being chatted at when their sick, Tyler,” Troye commented, brushing his shoulder against the other Cancer patients. 

“Babe, how dare you,” the shorter said, mocking hurt. 

“Saying hi should be fine as long as we keep the short stack in check,” Connor teased, coughing lightly after he finished talking. He groaned in pain and rubbed his chest for a moment as they were walking.

“You okay?” Tyler asked, placing his hand on Connor’s lower back. 

“I should be.” 

“If you’re sure,” he said, continuing down the hall.

Phil knocked on the door of the once empty room, waiting for someone to respond. “Hello?” someone called from the inside of the room.

“Hi!” Tyler called back, “Can we come in?”

“Um, yeah?” the newest patient called back. The small group entered the room, Phil hanging to the back awkwardly rubbing some of his overly tense muscles. 

“We’re some of the other patients in this hall,” Connor rasped, coughing a little bit more. “I’m Connor, the chatty one is Tyler. The tall one is Phil and the really skinny one is Troye.”

“I’m not that skinny!” Troye growled, hitting his friend playfully in the stomach. 

“I’m Dan,” the new patient smiled, his wrists were bandaged up in bright white Gauss, and then covered in a dark black colored wrapping. 

“Well,” Phil said, grabbing hold of Tyler’s shirt as he tried to walk towards the newcomer. “It was nice meeting you. We hang out in the cafeteria most days if you want to come and talk. Our rooms are down the hall with our names on them. We’ll let you get back to your rest.”

He then shepherded the rest of the group out into the hall, shutting the door behind him. He had a light pink blush on his cheeks, causing the tips of his ears to become a dark maroon color. “That was so awkward,” Troye laughed, placing his hand on the top of his beanie that had ridden up to show what was left of his hairline. “And I think Phil might have a crush.”


	2. Tired Secrets

The sun shone down from the large windows, spilling across the tile floors. The only noise in the small lobby-like room was the noise that came from Connor’s catheter which caused him to breath harder. Dan shuffled into the room, trying not to disturb the calm silence that the room had portrayed. The teenager flinched as his sneakers skid on the tile floor, causing a loud screeching noise to echo through the room. Connor whirled around, careful to make sure that his catheter didn’t get in the way.

“Oh hi, Dan,” he rasped before turning back to his laptop. 

“You’re Connor, right?” Dan asked as he continued walking to the small gathering of chairs. 

“Yup,” the younger chirped, giving him a pleasant smile. “What’re you in here for? That is if you don’t mind me asking.”

“Uh, I’d rather not say right now,” Dan whispered, his hands moving down to his wrists as he rubbed the bandages.

“That’s cool. After all, we did just meet,” Connor smiled, pressing a couple of buttons on his keyboard. 

“So how long have you been here?” Dan asked, folding his legs underneath him.

“I’ve been in and out of the hospital my entire life. It always starts with ‘We’re just going to keep you overnight,’ and then it turns into ‘just for the rest of the week’ and the next thing I know I’ve been here for two months!” Connor laughed, wincing after he did so.

“Really? What do you have that could make you stay that long?” Dan asked his hand itching just under where the bandages came. 

“I have Cystic Fibrosis,” Connor said, though when Dan gave him a blank expression he continued on. “It means that my lungs are really, really sensitive and scar really easily. Even coughing just a little bit will make them scar. They also fill with liquid sometimes. My parents thought it was just easier to have me at the hospital now that I can’t breathe without my oxygen.” He reached over and patted the top of the tank.

“Wow,” Dan said, completely baffled for any more words. 

“I’ve had it since I was born,” Connor shrugged. There was a moment of awkward quiet as Dan tried to take in the information that he had just been given. “So, Dan, what do you like to do for fun?”

“I mostly just troll around on the internet,” he shrugged, his shoulder falling down insecurely. “What do you do for fun here?”

“Well, I have my laptop. I like to write,” Connor said, patting the silver rectangle in his lap. “I used to be really into photography, but I can’t really do it while in here, can I?”

“I guess not,” Dan sighed. “Do you know what Phil has? He looks completely normal.”

“That’s for him to tell you,” Connor said, shaking his head lightly. 

“For who to tell what?” a new voice asked from the doorway. “Hey babe,” Tyler grinned teasingly as he walked up behind his boyfriend, playfully kissing his curls.

“Hey Tyler,” Connor said, a bemused expression on his face.

“Oh, are you two…?” Dan trailed off, looking back and forth between the two teenagers.

“I wish,” Tyler said, flopping down onto one of the chairs. Though Connor seemed not to notice, and even if he did he had no intention of showing it.

“We’re not together, we just like to joke around. We all know that Tyler and Troye are basically soulmates anyways,” the younger teenager teased.

“We are not!” Tyler blushed bright red, the color moving all the way up to his ears. 

“Are too!” Connor teased. “Speaking of which, where is he?”

“He’s been really tired recently. I’m pretty sure he’s still asleep,” Tyler explained, trying to rub the sleepiness out of his own eyes. 

“You look tired too,” Connor commented, his hand moving to rest on the other teen's leg. “Are you sure you should be up and about? I know Troye was always sleeping at this point in the chemo.”

“Our Cancers are different, Connor,” Tyler reminded him gently. 

“I know, but I still worry about you.”

“That’s why you’re my best friend.” He gave him a tired, yet happy smile.

“Mr. Howell! There you are!” a nurse said, clutching at her chest. “I was worried that you had-” she cut herself off when she saw the wide-eyed, scared expression that the young teenager was giving her. “Come for your checkup.”

“Bye Dan! When you get back Phil should be done with his session!” Connor called after him, though his voice didn’t go nearly as far as he would have liked it too.

“Bye,” Dan said, waving as he followed the nurse down the hall. When they had returned to his room, she took his wrist into her hands, unwrapping the bandages to expose the large, deep scars.

“I see you made some new friends,” the nurse commented while rubbing the disinfectant on the scars. Dan hissed and flinched back while giving her a nod in response.

“Mr. Oakley and Mr. Franta are good people. I’ve known Mr. Franta for a bit longer though,” she mused.

“It seems like they’ve known each other forever,” Dan hissed through his clenched teeth.

“When you don’t have much else to do but sleep and talk to the people in the rooms next to you, you kind of get to know each other. They also seemed to just click the first time they talked,” she said, reapplying the bandages.

“I can tell,” Dan mumbled.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, grabbing her clipboard from where she had put it on the bed.

“Okay, I guess.”

“Can we trust you to stay safe?” she asked, writing quickly on the paper.

“Yeah,” Dan said. “Have my parents called?”

“Your little brother tried to skip school to come to see you, but you were still asleep so they said they would come around noon,” she said, giving him a kind smile.

“Oh, okay,” Dan nodded. “Your therapist appointment is after dinner at 8,” she said, tucking the clipboard underneath her arm.

“Thanks,” he said, waiting for her to leave before he collapsed onto his bed, feeling the tears that had been hiding just out of reach spill over, flowing down his face and into his ears. He couldn’t do anything other than cry until his brother barged into the room.

“DAN!” Adrien cried, launching himself onto his brother as he held onto him for dear life.

“Hey Adrien,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around his brother, one of his hands traveling up to his hair.

“I was worried about you,” he sniffled, burying his face into Dan’s shirt. “When mom had to call the ambulance, they wouldn’t let anyone come with us. There was so much blood, Dan.”

“I’m sorry,” Dan whispered, feeling the arms of his mother wrap around his as well.

“We’re just happy you’re okay, love,” the woman whispered, running her hand through his long hair as she embraced her son. “I love you, so much.”

“I love you too, Mom,” he whispered, leaning into the touch. “And I love you, Adrien.”


	3. Confrontation

A soft knock on the doorframe caught the eldest teens attention. He slowly opened his eyes and rolled over, trying to see who it was. “Hi, babe,” he said teasingly, a smile resting on his exhausted face.

“Hi Ty,” Connor smiled, leaning up against the doorframe while his hand gripped the IV pole. “Is it okay if I come in?” 

“Always,” Tyler whispered, slowly pushing himself up. “Um, if you wouldn’t mind, could you hand me my beanie?” 

“Always,” Connor teased back. He grabbed the purple article of clothing off of the side table, handing it to his weak friend. “How are you feeling?” he asked, sitting down on the side of the bed. His hand drifted down and simply rested on Tyler’s leg.

“I’m tired. I just want to sleep forever,” He groaned, pushing his beanie over his lack of hair. 

“I don’t want you to sleep forever, cause that means we wouldn’t be able to talk,” Connor rasped. “Speaking of talking,” they both broke into laughter for a moment, though it ended up in Connor coughing for a good five minutes. 

“What do you want to talk to me about, babe?” Tyler asked, his hand moving down to take Connor’s own hand within his own, this thumb running up and down the smooth skin. 

“I-I think I might,” Connor rasped out, his eyes clouding with tears as he stared down at their clasped hands. “I think I like boys,” he whispered.

“Come here,” Tyler said, his voice now louder than it had been before, he dropped Connor’s hand, holding out his arms. The younger teenager fell into him, leaning into the hug as much as he could without feeling like he was injuring him. “I’m so proud of you,” he whispered, his voice choked with tears.

“Are you crying?” he asked, allowing a wet chuckle to escape his lips.

“So what?” Tyler pulled back, grabbing his sick friend's hands in his own again, looking into his deep sea green eyes. “I finally found someone like me.”

“What do you mean?” Connor cocked his head to the side a little in confusion.

“When I was diagnosed, I was sure that I had to keep myself inside because you guys wouldn’t accept me, so I did. I’m gay, Connor,” Tyler said, tears now streaming down his face as he explained.

“Holy shit,” the younger male whispered, pulling his friend back in for another hug. They both just hugged each other for a while, waiting for the tears to dry up and feelings to settle.

“How did you find out?” Tyler asked, sniffling slightly.

“I was taking online quizzes,” he started, a laugh stuck to his face as he spoke. 

“You cannot figure out if your gay from an online quiz!” Tyler laughed, his eyes slowly drifting to sleep. 

“But I took it, and I was halfway through when I realized that I was gay. I don’t like to look at girls in bikinis, I much prefer to see a shirtless dude in a movie,” Connor smiled, rubbing the back of his head nervously. 

“Huh,” Tyler said, slouching back on his bed. 

“How did you find out you were gay?” the younger of the two asked, his finger moving slightly as he threaded them together with Tyler’s.

“I always just kind of knew, you know. My mom asked me one day if I was, I thought about it and said yes,” he explained, giving the other a small shrug. He let out a big yawn, slouching down on his bed.

“You should get some sleep,” Connor rasped, letting out a small cough.

“Cuddle with me?” he asked, reaching his arms out like he had done before. Connor’s shoulder fell forward as he let out a loud sigh, turning a flopping down next to his older friend. Tyler giggled, wrapping his arms around the taller man, cuddling into him. He was almost instantly asleep, completely drained from his treatment.


End file.
